


Stardust

by missbecky



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 12:05:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8750143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: Somehow they always find each other, called through time and space to connect, to circle each other once again. Across slate grey oceans, through forests carpeted in silence, amid busy stinking cities. Only Eggsy. Always Eggsy.





	

Thunder cracks outside as rain streams down the windows. They're supposed to be deciding what to do for dinner, but Harry isn't really interested. The storm is soothing, wanting to send him off to sleep. He reckons he's earned it, after all; they've only been back from their latest mission for a few hours. By all accounts it was a success, although Arthur was none too happy about the wrecked car, the bullet holes in two new suits, and the shattered Bremont.

But they stopped the bomb from going off, and the ones who made it and planted it right in the city centre have been locked away. It's another victory, another headline to go on his wall.

And it's another reason to be grateful for the man currently lying half atop him.

Eggsy shifts a little, almost asleep himself. He's pleasantly warm, draped across Harry as they sit on the couch while the storm batters at the house. They'll both regret it later if they fall asleep like this, but Harry is too relaxed and worn out to care much.

"Hey, Harry." Eggsy's voice is a low murmur, drowsy and warm.

He makes a quiet humming sound, an unasked question.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

The question is odd enough that it brings him back from the verge of sleep. He frowns into space. "I never thought about it," he says honestly.

Eggsy doesn't pick his head up from where it rests on Harry's shoulder. "I think we knew each other. In a past life. You and me."

The idea makes him smile. "And who were you?"

Eggsy shrugs slightly. "Just a peasant, I guess."

This offends him, the way it always does when anyone puts Eggsy down. "Oh? Usually people say they were someone famous."

"Nah." Eggsy sounds a little more awake himself, but he continues to lie on Harry like he's perfectly content. "Just a peasant. And you—"

He thinks he knows where this is going now. "Please do not say lord of the manor."

"Nope." He can hear the smile in Eggsy's voice. "You were a knight. The real deal and everything."

This is better, although not by much, and Harry doesn't say anything.

"And one day you rode by and saved me from another peasant trying to steal one of my pigs."

He can't help smiling at this, and he runs his hand up and down Eggsy's back in a slow caress. "How very chivalrous of me."

"That's what I said. Only I said it all sarcastic like."

Harry shakes his head. "So I see nothing has changed."

"Shut it," Eggsy says, but it's clear he's amused, too. "So anyway, yeah I said it like that and you weren't used to anyone talking to you like that. Plus you were immediately smitten with my youth and beauty."

It's a simple thing to press a kiss to the crown of Eggsy's head. "As I am now."

Eggsy bats irritatedly at his chest. "Oi, quit interrupting. You wanna hear this or not?"

Still more amused than anything, Harry says, "I'm listening."

Eggsy smooths his fingers over the linen of Harry's shirt, as though to undo even the mild violence of his earlier annoyance. "So you got off your horse, and I walked up to you, and before we knew it basically we ended up shagging in the mud behind my peasant hovel."

Unable to help it, he says, "Oh dear. I hope we didn't catch the plague."

Eggsy sits up at this, rearing back to stare at him. "What? Jesus, Harry! No, we didn't."

The sight of Eggsy's outrage reins in his amusement. He's a little surprised by how seriously Eggsy is taking all this, as though he's defending something that actually happened. "Well, that's good," he says. "I always prefer a happy ending."

"Me too," Eggsy says.

"So how does it end?" Harry asks.

Eggsy frowns for a moment, his eyes vaguely unfocused as he looks up and to his left. Like he's truly remembering. "You were about to go off to the Crusades, but you couldn't stand leaving me behind. And I wasn't about to let you give up on your duty. So you made me your squire and rode off with me."

For a fleeting moment the words invoke something in him, too swift to be coherent, too impossible to be real. A flash of sunlight on metal, a beloved face looking up at him from a figure down on one knee, a rush of pride and love. Instead of expensive aftershave he smells ground-in dirt and the heavy scent of horse ( _named Galahad_ , whispers a voice so quiet he can barely hear it). Thunder rumbles outside but he hears the drums calling to war, and a cold wind whipping the banners.

Then he blinks and it's gone. And he mourns, but doesn't know why.

He tries to find his voice and sound normal. "Well," he says, "that's much better than being a peasant."

"Yeah," Eggsy says. He's lost some of that earnest look; it's become a game to him once again. He grins. "So we have adventures together and --"

"And you are a knight, too," Harry says. It started out fun enough, but now he feels the opposite of Eggsy's light-hearted spirits; he can't explain it, but he's not in the mood to play along anymore. "Not a peasant."

"Oh," Eggsy says. He shrugs. "Yeah. Okay."

"I insist upon it," Harry says.

Now Eggsy looks away, almost as though he's embarrassed. "Well, if you insist."

"I do," Harry says firmly. He won't have Eggsy beneath him, not in any lifetime, real or imagined.

"Okay," Eggsy says. He shrugs again. "So that's it, then. Our past life together."

"Well, it sounds quite lovely," Harry says. Being a student of history, he knows perfectly well that nothing could be further from the truth. And yet, he can't deny the appeal of it. Anywhere, anytime could be made right if he had Eggsy by his side.

Eggsy smiles shyly. "Yeah. I bet it was."

Harry holds his arm out, and Eggsy sinks onto him again with alacrity. "But this is nice, too."

"Yeah." Eggsy snuggles in close, finding that perfect place where his head is a comforting, familiar weight on Harry's shoulder. "I think this is even better."

Harry closes his eyes and smiles. "As do I, my dear."

*****

"We were stars, you know," Eggsy says dully.

Overhead the sun is bright, the sky an achingly pure blue. The ones who shot at them and sent them crashing through the window high above will be here soon to make sure they are dead. Harry doesn't care. If these are to be his last minutes on Earth, he cares only about one thing.

"Eggsy…" He stares up at that blue sky for a moment, a view uninterrupted by his glasses, which were lost in the fall. He gathers his strength, then manages to roll onto his side. It hurts – there are things broken deep inside him, and it's all he can do not to cry out with the pain. But somehow he manages to prop himself up on one shoulder, enough so he can look down at Eggsy.

Blood pools beneath Eggsy's broken body, slowly spreading outward. But there is nothing wrong with his eyes, and his gaze is steady. "I remember now," he says. "We were stars."

"We will be again," Harry says. He knows this science, too, the romantic cycle of carbon atoms throughout the universe. "Our molecules—"

"No," Eggsy whispers. Galaxies spiral in his eyes. "I remember now. We really were. Back when there was magic."

Harry leans down to kiss him, perhaps for the last time. As he does, Eggsy whines a little and turns his head away, the only part of his body he can move. But Harry is close enough and determined enough, and his lips brush Eggsy's cheek.

At the touch, memories flood back in a rush, sweet and terrifying. And always too late, coming at the end like this.

They overwhelm him, things he swore he would never forget but of course did. Men and women he has been, men and women he has loved, each of them a new face, a new name, but belonging to an old, familiar soul. A woman in Tanzania, a slave in Ancient Rome, a bricklayer in Peru, and yes, that knight in the Crusades. Somehow they always find each other, called through time and space to connect, to circle each other once again. Across slate grey oceans, through forests carpeted in silence, amid busy stinking cities. Only Eggsy. Always Eggsy.

They have gone to war together and died together. They have felled trees, nations, even each other. They have been thieves, water carriers, sailors. They have stood proudly together and met in secret, hushed whispers. While stars they used to know have wheeled above and even died in bursts of glory, they have endured, one lifetime to the next.

So many lives, and they're never enough, not even on those rare occasions when they get to spend a lifetime together. What is a human lifetime measured against the life span of a star?

For Eggsy is right. He remembers now a binary star system, eternally locked together in a cosmic dance. Cruelly ripped out of the sky one day on a whim, by one who despises love in all its forms. Trapped here in this world along with their oppressor when the magic left it forever.

Always that one opposes them, tries to tear them apart. Sometimes with success. Not this time, no, but not for a lack of trying.

The sky in Kentucky was blue that day, too, Harry thinks.

Eggsy stares up at him. "You remember."

He nods. "Yes." He's sinking, unable to hold himself up much longer. He's so low now that his breath warms the soft skin of Eggsy's face. 

At least next time they'll be the same age, entering the world at nearly the same time. Maybe they'll remember sooner next time. Maybe they can find a way to break the cycle and make it be the last time. Maybe someday they will reclaim the sky and go home, two lonely stars who found each other and vowed to never let go.

"I will find you," he says.

Eggsy smiles, lovely and peaceful. His voice is the merest breath of sound. "Not if I find you first."

He kisses Eggsy again, and this time it is for real. Their lips press together, a kiss of heat and light, a barycentre for their shared orbits.

He can't stay up any longer. He lets himself sink down, his head on Eggsy's chest. _I will find you_ , he thinks. He remembers now. He always makes this promise at the end. He always keeps it.

Far away he can hear voices shouting. The sky arches overhead, a pure and longing blue. 

He closes his eyes to the slowing beat of Eggsy's heart.

 _I will find you_ , and with a sigh he lets go of this life. It crumbles into a whisper of memory. Into something light and fine. Into stardust.


End file.
